


All Night

by kinkshamegame



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I do what I want, Kink Meme, PWP without Porn, Smut, but a little plot, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-24 00:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkshamegame/pseuds/kinkshamegame
Summary: A collection of oneshots and short stories. Open to requests left in the comment section.Ch 1: Anonymity"The everyday nature of his outfit made her mouth water. He’d always been so close, yet untouchable to her. She felt drunk on her power, heavy and hot. She could feel his throbbing pulse. Hear his quiet swallow. See his slight shiver. The rest of the world faded away; she only knew her need for more."





	All Night

This had to be wrong. It wasn’t covered in her high school Ethics Day lectures, but there’s no way this wasn’t wrong. It was morally reprehensible. Unthinkable.

 

But so tempting.

 

He had consented to this. To whomever coming through this door having their way with him, and doing what they wished. Raven and Roan had sworn it. He’d come to Roan’s club of his own volition, agreed to the covering of his eyes and binding of his hands. Agreed to whatever she wished to do with him, to whomever she might be.

 

But it’s _him_.

 

Dark skin stood out against the crisp white button-up stretched over his broad chest. Hands bound in his lap, sleeves rolled to the elbow. He looked like he had come direct from a lecture. She could picture him unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling the fabric to reveal deliciously muscled forearms. Had seen him do it too many times to count. Her belly filled with heat, her body slowly realizing her position and core tightening with anticipation.

 

The rules were clear.

 

She was permitted to do whatever she wished with him, provided she respect any boundaries he set. He was allowed to speak, but not touch. She was allowed to touch, but not speak. The blindfold was to remain in place the entire time, and names were not to be shared. She watched, transfixed, as he stretched and flexed his hands within the rope. Those large, powerful hands bound together.

 

Bound for her.

 

Her mouth watered at the thought, but her mind kept her in place. How could this be alright? How could she do this without him knowing who she was? Why had she agreed to Raven and Roan’s salacious offer? What if he discovered her identity? What if he didn’t want her to be the one to do thi—

 

“Are you going to stand there all night?” The question hung in the air between them. Her mind went blank, instinctively opening her mouth to bite back a sharp retort, but remembered the rules just in time. “I can’t exactly entertain myself, now can I?” He smirked lazily.

 

Despite being bound and blinded, his voice was confident and teasing. Unfazed. Effortless. She went to glare, but was further annoyed upon realizing that her glare would be pointless. If he wanted to goad her; she’d bite.

 

Walking closer to him, she let her heels click on the wood floor. She came to a stop in front of him, examining the black cloth covering his eyes. She cautiously tugged at it.

 

“It’s not going anywhere. Roan tied it himself.” He answered her silent question. She tested the binding of his wrists as well, finding the same firm hold. She let out a relieved breath, satisfied that he would not discover her identity. She took a step back, retreating into her mind. She looked to the door she’d entered, wondering if it would be better to make a run for it and suffer the teasing from Raven and Roan. She could handle a few months of sly glances and elbow nudges, it’s not as if she didn’t deal with them already. She could just walk away and pretend this never happened. It’s not as if he would know, right? She could just put this whole situation in the past, move forward with her non-existent sex life and box of vibrators. She’d been successful thus far, surely she could continue to resist.

 

“Please.”

 

Her head shot up at the sound, his voice low and rough. He squirmed slightly in the chair, and cleared his throat. That single syllable dripped with desire, and she felt the warmth of his rough stubble before she realized her hand had made to move. He leaned eagerly into her palm. She was hooked.

 

* * *

 

Admiring the contrast between their skin, she allowed her fingers to skim the smooth areas left vulnerable by the open buttons of his shirt. Only three buttons undone. The everyday nature of his outfit made her mouth water. He’d always been so close, yet untouchable to her. She felt drunk on her power, heavy and hot. She could feel his throbbing pulse. Hear his quiet swallow. See his slight shiver. The rest of the world faded away; she only knew her need for _more_.

 

Her hand followed the strong line of his shoulders up to his neck, dipping into his dark curls. He groaned in relief.

 

“God, yes.”

 

She smirked and tightened her grip. His mouth fell open with a heavy sigh as she tugged firmly. The previous tension melted from her muscles, and she found herself giving into pure instinct. Stepping behind him, she ran her mouth down his neck. Her lips dragged and she snuck a taste. His low moans and whispered praises made the heat in her belly flare. Clarke pulled his collar to the right, laving her tongue across the slightly raised black ink. She teased him with a flash of sharp teeth, and secured her hold on his hair when he flinched in pleasure. His hips thrust helplessly off the chair, the legs smacking down against the wood loudly. Her mouth went dry at the thought of his strength, bound and at her mercy. What he was capable of, if he only escaped the bindings.

 

It wasn’t as if she’d get her chance to have him in the outside world. If he knew who she was.

 

She gave him a soothing massage. His broad shoulders were tense, always carrying the weight of the world. His head fell against her stomach limply. Then she leaned over him, kissing and biting his neck while unbuttoning his shirt. He nuzzled the side of her face and tried to catch her lips with his. She hummed in disapproval, fisting his hair and sinking her teeth into the curve of his neck. He jerked in pleasure, slamming his chair against the ground again.

 

“Fuuuuuck…”

 

Withdrawing sharply, she crossed to his front and bent to open his shirt fully. She brushed light kisses over his dark skin. Her nails made him jump, barely teasing and leaving goosebumps in their wake. She played with the button of his slacks, letting her hand cup his hot and hard bulge. He thrust against her, needy and impatient.

 

“So hot, baby. God, I wish I could see you.”

 

She slipped the button free, stroking him smoothly over his boxers. She could feel his smooth hardness and ached to feel his length inside of her. There wasn’t much time left, and she was sure that having him inside of her was a place she could never come back from. She sunk to her knees before him and pulled him free.

 

She started with teasing licks, spreading the drop of precum across his soft head. He twitched in her grip, growling. Her tongue ran from base to tip before she took the head fully into her mouth and dipped down. She bobbed her head slowly, taking time to draw his pleasure out. He swore quietly, dropping his head against the chair’s back with a quiet thud. His hands, bound at the wrist, were sitting respectfully above her head, but she wasn’t having any of that. She tugged the ties, and brought his hands to her head. He groaned again, eagerly tangling his long fingers in her blonde waves.

 

She hummed happily around him, keeping a slow and shallow pace. Teasing. His hips shifted impatiently, but he stayed (mostly) still. She pulled away, smirking at his obviously tenuous control. Fuck that.

 

“Holy shit, Princess.” His hands fisted in her curls when she drew him back into her hot mouth, sliding down quickly to let his head tap against the back of her throat. His hips spasmed under her and thrust upwards in a slight hiccup. She groaned when he slid deeper, sucking harder and he whimpered. “Fuck yes, Princess. You like it when I fuck your mouth?” She nodded around him, quickening her pace. “Yeah, baby. So good, so sweet.” He let a finger trace her cheek, stretched slightly by his thickness. “So fucking good. So good to me, baby.”

 

His hips continued to lightly thrust, and she relaxed her jaw to take him deeper. The smooth slide of him in her mouth got her even wetter. Her panties were surely ruined.

 

“Wish I could watch you take my cock, Princess. That sweet mouth wrapped around me.” She gave him a hard suck, and he tugged at her hair in retaliation. “I’d flip you over, slide inside you and fuck you open. Make you cum on my mouth, fingers and then my cock.” She whimpered, sneaking a hand down to relieve a little pressure from between her legs. Her elbow brushed his shin on the way down, and he swore again. “Yeah, baby? Does that get you hot? The idea of me holding you down and fucking you out of your goddamn mind? I’d take you any way you could imagine, and then a few more.” She swallowed around him, and he cried out. “I’d cum so damn deep in your pussy, Princess. Make that pussy mine.”

 

She rubbed herself quickly, moaning into his skin. She let her teeth brush against the side of his head ever so slightly, and he finally seized in ecstasy. He came with a hoarse shout.

 

* * *

 

Clarke groaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She couldn’t seem to fully wake up this morning.

 

Her feet padded quietly across the kitchen and she reached for the coffee pot. She stretched on her toes, pulling two mugs from the cabinet above her automatically. She filled hers with coffee and cream, and emptied two sugar packets into the other.

 

“Thanks, Griffin.”

 

A dark hand reached out to grab its mug. She ducked her head, avoiding eye contact as a slight flush spread across her cheeks. She didn’t have to look to know a bright smile stretched across his handsome face. His sleep-tussled curls were too much for her this morning. Not after that depraved dream.

 

“No problem.”

 

She fixed her gaze on the spoon swirling in her mug. He gathered a few items from the cupboard across from her, and returned to his seat at the table. She turned, letting out a sigh of relief at their decreased proximity.

 

She grabbed a granola bar from the counter and made to return to his room. He stretched and sighed. Her head turned at his quiet groan, but her stomach instantly turned.

 

The collar of his flannel shirt had shifted to reveal the dark line of latin (a relic of a rebellious past, long since past) across the top of his shoulder. The tattoo, while normally captivating in its own right, paled in comparison to the spot above it.

 

Where a small red bite mark sat neatly.


End file.
